Chapter 16
The.One.
Raven
As much as I want to bail and sprint to my room like the chicken I clearly am, there’s just one small problem. I don't actually know where my room is.
I’d planned on going to bed at the same time as Rachel, assuming we’d turn in for the night together. But no. Of course, she had to pull the I need my own room card and leave me stranded. Now, I'm stuck.
Fuckity-fucking-fuck.
And of course, Kane would find this whole situation hilarious.
You're a big girl Raven. You can have a man walk you to your room without your mouth falling on his dick.
It’s not that I don’t trust myself. But it would just be rude if I didn’t help clean up. That’s why I’m staying, or that's what I tell myself. That’s the only reason I stand up to start gathering dishes.
As I move around the table, I catch a glimpse of Kane out of the corner of my eye.
“What?” I pause, picking up a plate.
“Nothing.” His voice is too casual, but there’s a hesitation in it. Then he quickly adds, “Here, let me help with the food.”
He looks like he was about to say something else, but he stays quiet.
I narrow my eyes. “What were you about to say?”
Kane doesn’t strike me as the type to hold back, so whatever it was, I want to know.
“It’s nothing, really.”
Liar.
I hold his stare for a moment, not buying it, but I'll let it slide for now. The sound of running water fills the silence as I rinse off a dish, my mind still thinking about his reaction, when he laughs.
I glance at him. “Okay, what is it now”
His eyes are playful, but there’s something else there again. Instead of answering, his lip twitches. It's the same infuriating, ridiculously attractive smirk that’s been driving me insane since the moment we met.
The man has more layers than Fort Knox.
“I’m just surprised to see you getting your hands dirty,” he shrugs, rolling up his sleeves. His tone is teasing, but the look on his face is still unreadable. “Doesn’t seem like your thing.”
I pause, momentarily distracted by the movement, because holy shit. Forearms.
My gaze locks onto the ink peeking out from under his sleeve. It winds its way up his forearm like it’s hiding a story I suddenly need to know.
Focus, Raven.
“Rude!” I snap. “I happen to know how to wash dishes, thank you very much. And I’d also like to point out that I'm not getting my hands dirty. I’m getting them clean.”
I grin at my own joke, feeling a little too proud of myself. And before I can second-guess it, I scoop up a handful of bubbles and blow them straight at him.
He raises an eyebrow and a slow devastating smile spreads across his face. It's just enough to make me forget how to breathe.
He takes a step closer, and suddenly, the space between us feels dangerously small.
Heat rushes through me, going straight to my core and I’m praying he can’t tell. I know I need to look away, to step back, to literally say anything. But I don’t. I can't.
“Fair point.” His voice drops dangerously low. “And here I thought you were just a princess.”
I roll my eyes, ignoring the way my body reacts to the way he says that.
“Well, this princess happens to know her way around a sink. Ever heard of Cinderella?”
For a split second, my brain supplies me with an entirely different kind of fairytale, one involving a very different kind of happy ending. But I shove that thought into a vault and throw away the key.
“I’m not sure if you were taught this,” I continue, trying not to sound affected by him. “But insulting people is generally frowned upon.”
Kane tilts his head slightly. “Noted.”
Then, because he’s an ass, he leans in so close that I swear I feel the heat radiating off him.
“I’ll be on my best behavior from now on,” he adds smoothly, his gaze going right to my lips.
God help me.
I force myself to break eye contact and point at his arm, needing a distraction. “So, what’s the story behind the tattoo?”
He looks down at the ink, and for a second, the look in his eyes shifts. The teasing vanishes, his cocky smirk disappears, and it’s replaced by something heavier.
“It’s a long story,” he turns back to the dishes. “Maybe I’ll tell it to you sometime.”
That’s it. That’s all he gives me.
I wait a minute, half expecting him to elaborate but he doesn't. He just keeps rinsing dishes like the conversation never happened.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Seriously? That’s all I get?”
He shrugs, but I see the corners of his mouth twitch.
“What’s the story behind swearing off men?”
I roll my eyes but don’t deflect. After a beat, I decide to just tell him the truth.
“You know when you give your entire soul to someone? When you love so hard, it almost consumes you?” I pause, collecting my thoughts before continuing.
“Well, I learned the hard way that when you love like that, you fall just as hard. And when it ends, you realize everyone was right and you got played.”
I keep washing the dishes while the weight of my words settle over the room like a quiet storm.
“It sucks realizing you were just used and tossed aside like a crumpled piece of paper.” My voice softens and I add, “But the worst part is the guilt. Because deep down, you knew. You knew you had to get out, but you didn’t have the guts to do it.”
I look up and he's staring at me. I probably shouldn't keep talking, but I do.
“I refuse to believe that’s what love is and I refuse to believe that real love doesn’t exist. So until I find that love, I don’t want any of it. I won’t live in a relationship where love isn’t real because I know it’s out there somewhere.”
He looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. His mouth parts slightly, like he’s about to respond but then he closes it.
“It’s just a reminder of where I come from.”
There’s a steadiness to his voice, but beneath it, I catch something else. Something raw and guarded.
He’s putting up a wall and his mask slips right back into place. Looks like whatever the tattoo means is a door he’s not willing to open.
Now I really want to see it.
But the way he told me just enough then shut that conversation down, tells me it’s not happening. Not tonight.
Figures.
I'm in way over my head here and all we’re doing is washing dishes. Damn Rachel for leaving me alone to deal with this. How the hell is a girl supposed to focus when his sleeves are rolled up and I can see the veins in his forearms standing out like that? It’s downright distracting.
And now, with the whole tattoo mystery? I can’t help but wonder what else he’s hiding.
Just what I need, another puzzle I have no business trying to solve.
Just seeing his body in clothes is enough to mess with me. But imagining him without the restrictions of fabric?
I quickly lick my suddenly dry lips and force myself to focus on the dishes, drowning my wandering thoughts in the bubbles.
Kane chuckles softly like he knows exactly what’s going on in my head and the sound sends a shiver straight down my spine.
Of course, he finds this amusing.
“Touché,” is all he says.
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and there it is. That damn self-satisfied smirk.
I can hear the storm outside rumbling while the thunder rolls through the room like a warning. All I know is my heart is racing and I have no idea what's happening.
I turn to grab a towel, but don’t get that far because Kane’s right there, holding it just out of reach.
My breath catches and for a moment, I forget what I was doing. His eyes lock onto mine and I feel the tension snapping tight.
“Looking for this?” He starts winding up the towel, wearing a mischievous grin.
Oh, hell no.
“Don’t. You. DARE,” I warn, narrowing my eyes at him. But it’s too late.
The flash in his eyes says it all. Gone is the composed, always-in-control Kane. What stands before me now is pure temptation. Like a predator ready to pounce.
He raises an eyebrow and that’s all the warning I get before the towel snaps through the air with a sharp crack.
I yelp, twisting out of the way, barely dodging it in time.
I scramble to the other side of the island while my heart pounds in my chest. My eyes dart around, searching for something to shield myself with or maybe even to throw at him, but there's nothing.
“Kane, think about this,” I say, trying to sound calm and reasonable, as if I’m talking him down from the ledge.
His grin widens.
“Oh, I’m thinking about it.”
Shit.
“You really don’t want to do this.” I warn again, holding my hands up like I’m surrendering and my voice wavers slightly, betraying me.
He takes a slow, calculated step forward.
“I promise you’ll regret it.” I add, desperate now.
He hums, pretending to consider it.
“Really, Princess? Because I think that it’s exactly what I want to do.”
The way he says it, all dark and smooth, is making me think very dirty things. His voice digs under my skin, settling in places it has no business being.
My pulse spikes again, and the heat in his eyes is different this time. It’s unfiltered and raw.
I'm suddenly one hundred percent certain I’m out of my depth. If I don’t get control of this situation fast, I’m going to do something stupid. Like… I don’t know. Throw caution to the wind and climb him like a goddamn tree.
I fake left, and the second Kane shifts to catch me, I dart to the right. To my utter delight, he actually falls for it. Which I'm taking as a small victory.
I make a break for the sink and my heart pounds like a war drum. The second I make it, I grab the sprayer, turn the water on, and spin right as the towel snaps against my leg.
I scream, laughing, as the cold spray hits both of us, soaking through our clothes. He’s quick, he’s on me in an instant.
Water flies everywhere, drenching the counters, the floor, us.
I twist, refusing to let go, but I never really stood a chance. I should’ve surrendered the second he came after me. But apparently, common sense has left the building, and I'm blaming him entirely for it.